Good for a Laugh
by DidosLament
Summary: A sense of humor is key to survival in any era. Kagome realizes just how true this is when she finds out all is not as it seems with a certain demon lord. Incidental SessKag. Not OOC or AU, I promise. Slight spoilers for manga up through 472.
1. Good for a Laugh

Author's Note: I own nothing. Inuyasha et al belong to Rumiko Takahashi and part of the premise belongs to Resmiranda… many thanks to her for permitting me to borrow one of her speculations about the canon. I've written a great deal of non-fiction, but this is my first attempt at fanfiction, and I'm sorry to say I've resorted to some clichés, especially with regards to the Sess/Kag pairing. Also, if you're looking for a good lemon or lime, this is not the place – rules and such – that and the (almost) sex really is incidental to the plot (such as it is). Reviews are much appreciated but not demanded.

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"_In Africa, a thing is true at first light and a lie by noon." –Ernest Hemingway_

"HENTAI!"

One would think that Miroku had learned his lesson after three years or so, but Sango's shout, followed by the crack of her rock-hard Hiraikotsu colliding with Miroku's even harder skull, proved otherwise.

_He must be denser than I thought – literally – _mused Kagome, _to continually withstand Sango's refusals._

She laughed softly to herself. When she first fell down the well and began her journey, as a naïve but bright 15 year old, Miroku's lewd behavior had scandalized her, but now she found it a source of much needed amusement. Not that she would let on.

"Keh!" was the extent of Inuyasha's reaction to their companions' spat.

_If only he and his brother – half brother – realized how similar they were… both masters of the monosyllable._

Kagome smiled inwardly. Shippo only shook his head discouragingly as Miroku rubbed out the newest kink in his neck and pleaded with Sango for forgiveness – it was all the cursed hand's fault.

As the five shard-hunters continued walking down the path along the edge of yet another beautiful, demon-infested forest, Kagome considered all the things her alternate life in the Feudal Era had taught her. Because, really, what else was there to do after you'd already admired the scenery for an hour or two?

Truth No. 1: Things are not always what they seem. Like the forest – pretty from here but pretty quick death for the hapless wanderer. Sometimes this truth – as with the woods – was dangerous, sometimes it was ironic, and sometimes it was downright funny. And in some cases, like all the times that Miroku's libido had led him into some female demon's trap, it was all three. As if any real woman in her right mind would agree to bear his children.

_Oh, right. Sango would. If he'd just ask her politely – a few more times, to prove he was sincere – instead of groping her. Speaking of which…_

Miroku was stretching his arms above his head, preparatory to bringing one of them down behind Sango, a move Kagome recognized from having to fend off Hojo at the movies last weekend.

_Here it comes…_

Sango's slap echoed across the clearing and Kagome watched the red handprint bloom on Miroku's face with the barest of smiles.

_She must be warming up to him finally… she hasn't used Hiraikotsu as often lately._

As always, with the best grace and humor he recovered and began his apologies again.

Truth No. 2: A sense of humor is required for survival. Miroku knew this. Sango knew it too, though she hid it well. Often during their baths or other private times together, the older girl would share her repertoire of tasteless jokes with Kagome, which was extensive after growing up in a primarily male environment as a demon slayer. Given this, Kagome suspected that Sango was not so much upholding her modesty in the face of Miroku's advances as playing a kind of game, albeit a painful one for the monk. _Whatever floats their boat._

Inuyasha would learn Truth No. 2 as well… some day.

Kagome had been so sincere when she arrived in the Feudal Era – so hopelessly sincere – and she still was at heart, but just as her skills with the bow and arrow had improved for her own self-defense, her sense of humor had evolved as a mental self-preservation. Not only did it help steady her in battle on occasion – a sarcastic inner monologue seemed to help keep her mind distracted from the possibility of imminent death or dismemberment as she tried to just stay alive and keep the jewel shards in sight – but it also helped keep mental exhaustion at bay, seeking out any source of amusement in the endless cycle of her travels.

Trudge, fight Sesshoumaru, battle, collect shards, cram frantically for test, fend off Kouga, argue with Inuyasha, go home in a huff, fail test, fend off Hojo and overly helpful friends, stuff ramen and candy in blasted yellow backpack, return to Feudal Era, wash, rinse, repeat. It reminded her of one of the RPG games Souta was so fond of. Although now that she had graduated high school – barely – she had a welcome break in the routine and had decided to spend the whole summer in sixteenth-century Japan, with the jewel nearing completion. She had also traded in the school girl uniform for a pair of jeans, some loose cotton tank tops, a soft, faded grey sweater, and black water-proofed leather boots – for which she thanked the gods daily, each and every one of them. While the uniform, over time, had become a symbol of her difference from her previous incarnation, Kikyou, she was just as happy to have her sense of self reside in comfortable clothing.

Kouga, however, had been disappointed to see the obscenely short skirt go. He never said a word - he was still faultlessly chivalrous in addition to being a pig-headed chauvinist – but she knew what he was thinking. She almost giggled out loud remembering the brief pout that had crossed his lips. Years ago she had been shocked and embarrassed by his imploring words and rough, warm hands on her own. Now she would just calmly pluck her hands from Kouga's, smile ruefully and give her refusal, pat his cheek, and then sit Inuyasha before he burst a vein in his rage – or Kouga's skull. The thought of this routine broke Kagome's previous half-smile into a full-on goofy grin.

"What's so funny, wench?"

"Nothing, Inuyasha."

"Feh. Crazy woman."

_Perhaps. _Kagome smirked. _A few more years of this and I will be._ As she was about to ponder the Third Truth – that hot water and feather pillows were arguably mankind's greatest achievements in the past 400 years – the small party encountered a complication. Kagome supposed it was about time.

-----

As was always the way with Sesshoumaru, one second there was nothing and the next he was there looking glacially calm and impossibly disdainful all at once. At the head of the group, Miroku braced himself, hand on the beads that held his wind tunnel in check. Sango swung Hiraikotsu from her back and shed her kimono, without anyone noticing, to reveal the taijiya uniform underneath.

_How in the blazes does wonder woman over there do that?_ Kagome wondered as she skirted to the side of the road and knocked an arrow, Shippo clinging to her shoulder and bravely trying to conceal the shiver in his little tail. Down the length of her arrow Kagome stared at Sesshoumaru and thought about how girly he was with the long hair and those red markings on his eyelids that really, really looked like eyeshadow. Bad eyeshadow at that. _Must have got into his mother's makeup drawer._

Still, her aim faltered, the head of the arrow wavering slightly in the air. Beyond her Inuyasha had charged forward, brandishing his large sword and shouting – the possible double entendres had ceased to amuse Kagome long ago, and besides…

With practiced grace Sesshoumaru drew Tokijin and deflected Inuyasha's headlong rush, sending him flying, only to stop abruptly with a sickening thud against a tree trunk somewhere to Kagome's left. After checking to see that Inuyasha was still moving – groaning at least – out of the corner of her eye, Kagome returned to glare at Sesshoumaru, this time mentally adding some ribbons to his hair and completing the bad makeup job with some shimmery pink lipstick.

_Like he gave a unicorn a blowjob._ At last, her aim steadied. She sighted the center of his chest and felt a cocky grin tug at the corner of her mouth.

Sesshoumaru strode forward, past Miroku and Sango, who remained on guard but essentially helpless to stop him, seemingly intent on continuing to punish Inuyasha for his very existence. _No girl or imp. He's come alone. He means business. This is bad, very bad._

"Stop!" The command left Kagome's lips before she could censor it.

As he turned sharply to regard her, annoyanced flickered across his otherwise placid features. _Think, Kagome, how do you keep his attention while Inuyasha shakes it off?_

"Why should this Sesshoumaru listen to your demands?" Pause. "And why do you smile?"

_Oops. Forgot about that. Something was funny…_

"That's for me to know and you to find out." _Great, Kagome. Wonderful._

Sesshoumaru frowned and behind him Inuyasha staggered to his feet. _Quick, stall him!_

"Don't move!" The head of her arrow flared pink with holy energy.

"Don't be stupid, wench!" Inuyasha shouted, reclaiming some of Sesshoumaru's attention.

"Oi!" Kagome felt her palms sweat. "This probably won't kill you, but it'll hurt like a bitch. I might even purify your other arm off!"

_Shit._

Sesshoumaru growled – a feral sound, low in his chest – and before she had time to let loose her arrow, his right arm connected with her midsection as he charged, knocking Shippo loose, and hauled her off into the trees with him.

_And I thought Inuyasha's mouth would be his end one day… _was all Kagome could think as Sango's distraught cry, Miroku's stunned silence, and Inuyasha's incessant cursing faded in the distance.

------

Kagome crashed to a halt against a tree trunk, Sesshoumaru's claws pricking her neck as he held her in a death grip at the end of his very un-purified right arm.

"It seems that worthless half-breed infects all those around him with his stupidity."

Frozen in terror, Kagome's mental defenses kicked in and she did the only thing she could do… she laughed.

"What do you find so amusing, miko?"

"I don't know," Kagome answered truthfully, tears trickling down her cheeks – whether from laughter or fear, she couldn't tell.

Not satisfied with her answer, Sesshoumaru shook her sharply, his claws drawing blood with the motion and then, without her realizing, Kagome's holy powers flared, pink energy crackling around his fingers. She was dropped to the ground unceremoniously and looked up to see him staring at his hand, his face a blank mask.

"That… tickled."

This was most definitely not the reaction she had expected. And if it wasn't enough…

"Do it again," he commanded.

"Oh, no!" Kagome scrambled up and away, thrusting her arms in front of her, palms out in the best self-defense she could think of without bow or arrow.

"You would deny this Sesshoumaru?"

_Hell yes!_ she screamed inside. But nothing came out. Sesshoumaru paused, shrugged gracefully out of his armor, and began to advance on her. _Great, he wants to play with me a little before he kills me. Just like a big cat. Wish I could find that ironic right now._

Slowly, calmly, he walked forward until her palms met his chest. Nothing happened.

Frowning beautifully, he grabbed her throat and pulled her roughly against him. Both her hands clamped around his only wrist as she did her best to escape before asphyxiating. And through her struggling she almost thought she heard him sigh.

"Useless," he declared.

This hit a nerve and Kagome's anger sparked and the pink energy rushed to her fingertips. He growled, this time in satisfaction, and turned to back her against the tree again, still none too gently. Furious both at the haughty smile he now wore and her impending demise, she kicked and twisted against his grip. Sesshoumaru's only response to her renewed struggle was to slam his hips against her waist and shift his knee between her legs, hampering her desperate movement.

Despite herself, Kagome moaned at the sudden heat and friction of his muscled thigh against her core. Obviously, her lower body was not connected to her brain, which was racing in frantic circles, and she bucked against him involuntarily. Still angry beyond reason, she glared at him, only to find he had elegantly raised one eyebrow as he considered her with what she supposed was the closest he ever came to confusion.

"Hn."

Kagome's powers continued to sputter and flare, but to no effect, possibly due to her divided attention. One part of her brain was screaming in rage and helplessness and the other part was purring "oooh, warm."

"You are angry." He sniffed. "And aroused. Curious."

_No, I most definitely am not!_ Kagome wanted to retort, but couldn't muster her vocal chords. Instead, she began to cry in frustration, with herself and with her predicament.

Obviously still intrigued, Sesshoumaru leaned forward without releasing his grip on her neck, and carefully licked one tear from where it hovered about to drop from her jaw, back up her cheek.

"Gagh." _What in the hell is he doing!_ Kagome tried to struggle again and Sesshoumaru let out a short bark in her ear. She froze.

Trying to breathe deeply and ignore the tree bark digging into her back and her bruised rear, she worked to calm herself and think of a way out, while the demon lord holding her continued his investigation of her person. Deciding he liked the taste of her skin, Sesshoumaru licked his way along her jaw to her earlobe – _No, gross, no no no_ – where he latched one of his fangs, sniffed, and exhaled slowly, making Kagome shiver. _Mmm, NO no no nonono…_

Kagome squirmed, arching her back in protest, but this only furthered her predicament by rubbing her breasts against Sesshoumaru's chest, causing her nipples to harden with the friction. She had to fight the instinct to wind her free leg around his hip.

He pulled back to stare at her again and Kagome realized she was flushed and panting. For once she didn't need to wonder what he was thinking – the look in his eyes as he took in her disheveled state was universally recognizable.

"Hn."

Again with the monosyllables. _Not so funny now that you're pinned up against a tree and about to me shagged but good, eh Kagome?_

Determined not to give in to the urges from her traitorous body, Kagome removed her hands from his wrist to shove against Sesshoumaru's chest, doing her best to ignore the toned muscles and the scalding heat beneath his kimono. _God. Dammit._ As her irritation with herself increased her powers steadied and the pink aura sizzled against the silk and crackled across his flawless skin. _This has to be hurting now._

"Your struggles are only further enticing this Sesshoumaru," he dryly informed her before, impossibly fast, shifting his grip to her wrists – _Damn he has large hands_ – and whipping her to the ground in an all too convenient patch of moss and flowers. _So he's a masochist and I should have taken my allergy medicine,_ she thought wryly as he straddled her legs, pinning her again. And then he was leaning in, dragging his chest along hers and burying his nose in her neck greedily, then running one fang across her collarbone, raising a thin red welt in its wake, and _oooh, I was angry about something…_ His mouth worked its way, open and moist and hot, down the cleavage her gaping tank-top offered and his hair, cold, heavy and silky, caressed her arms.

And then he was standing with his back to her and Kagome felt cool air rush in where his warmth and weight had vanished.

_What the-_

And then Kagome heard her voice.

"_Here_ you are."

Kagome had the impression that several people were speaking at once- the voice was hard and warm, deep and light, wry and deadly serious, all at once. It was not necessarily pleasant, but she felt compelled to listen.

Sesshoumaru said nothing, but she could have sworn she saw his shoulders tense slightly. _I am going to just sit verrrry still and maybe he'll forget I'm here and whoever _she _is won't notice and – damn – my eyes are watering. Stupid flowers._

The mystery woman continued speaking and from behind Sesshoumaru Kagome was sure she was a demon. Her voice and the fact that the demon lord hadn't moved an inch were enough.

"I am fully aware that you have every right to do as you please with your time, my lord, but I am here to inform you that the affairs of your lands require more of your attention than you have paid of late. The papers are a foot thick on your desk, covered in an inch of dust. 'Extended constitutionals' are all well and good, but three years is quite 'extended' enough, don't you think?"

Sesshoumaru's back stiffened but he didn't utter a word. Not one monosyllable. Kagome's nose itched.

"What _have_ you been doing?"

More stony silence.

Kagome's allergies finally got the better of her and she let out a violent sneeze. _Oooh, that felt good… Whoops._

Sesshoumaru turned to stare at her, clearly aggravated and… disappointed? Worried? But Kagome had no time to puzzle it out, because with his shift in posture she could now see the other woman. Light grey eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed as the woman turned to gaze calmly at Sesshoumaru, her face as impenetrable a facade as his own.

"Oh. I _see_."

The rise in pitch and emphasis on the last word was the only evidence of emotion. Slowly getting to her feet, Kagome was amazed, now that she could see the female demon. She appeared to be inu, but completely unlike Sesshoumaru, except for the hauteur she wore like a second skin. Her hair was jet black – meticulously coiffed into a simple twist with no visible ornament – and that darkness combined with her slight tan accentuated the startling paleness of her eyes. And just below those eyes was a single, elegant black stripe on each high cheekbone, which was duplicated at her wrists. Her hands were clasped in front of her, fingers interlaced – the gesture conveyed calm expectation.

Later, Kagome would remember that she wore a steel gray kimono with white sakura blossoms on the shoulder and sleeves in a pattern similar to Sesshoumaru's, but at the moment everything except for her eyes and captivating voice faded to insignificance. This woman needed no finery or ornamentation.

Since Sesshoumaru seemed disinclined to offer any explanation, the woman stepped past him and introduced herself to Kagome, who struggled awkwardly to her feet.

"I am Sayuri, Lady of the Western Lands. And your name is?" She spoke in the patient tone, with the barest hint of condescension, that one of the upper class uses when addressing children or making nice with the help.

"It's K-Kagome." _Try not to swallow your own tongue. Wives – Sesshoumaru has a _wife_ – in this era are used to concubines and affairs. She won't kill me… probably_. _Nevermind _he _started it._ "My apologies, lady, but I had no intention…" _What are you going to tell her? I didn't want to screw him, just shoot his other arm off…_

Kagome didn't get a chance to finish her stumbling explanation. Now in closer proximity, Sayuri sniffed the air between them and those dramatic eyes widened again in shock.

"Human!" Her flexible voice tinted the word with disgust and anger, before the eyes narrowed and she recovered her composure. Apparently deciding Kagome was no longer worth any notice she returned her attention to Sesshoumaru, a frown of disappointment weighting her lips and lowering her brow.

"Really, Sesshoumaru, the dozens of illegitimate pups I can withstand. Heaven knows the concubines leave me with more time to myself and the army of brats is a small price to pay for that leisure… but _hanyou! _By all the gods, do you ever stop to think?"

Apparently some male traits crossed species. At least Sesshoumaru had the grace to take his dressing down in dignified silence.

"If you'll remember, my father only agreed to our marriage because we were assured that you would _not_ take after your father. Have you no standards left? What will the other lords think? I can hear my mother already… I simply cannot fathom your stupidity at this moment."

Sesshoumaru was beginning to show the slightest signs of agitation. He shifted his stance slightly and at last found his usual deadpan voice.

"This is a singular incident." There was only the slightest hint of defensiveness in his explanation. But it was there. His gaze shifted momentarily to the forest depths and then back to his wife.

_Wife. Wife wife wife wife_, Kagome struggled to link the word with the stoic lord in her mind. And then she heard the sounds that Sesshoumaru must have picked up a minute or two ago – the snuffling of a beast and angry squawks… "stupid girl!"

"Lord Sesshoumaru!"

Sayuri whipped around, any further criticism forgotten, and watched with evident disbelief as the little girl in a checkered kimono ran gaily out from the undergrowth, straight to her guardian. Kagome swore she saw Sesshoumaru's golden eyes warm momentarily before the indifference returned. His ward proceeded to babble about how they had been looking for him, but Jaken waddled too slow and this, that and the other…

Of course, Sayuri, noticing the physical similarities between Kagome and Rin, leapt to the obvious wrong conclusion.

"Singular incident?" A low growl rumbled in her throat.

Sesshoumaru gently placed his hand on the girl's head to silence her. He looked at his wife quizzically for a moment before finally catching up with her logic. The exasperation was plain on his face. Kagome thought she might have heard him sigh.

"Rin is not hanyou."

"And you are not a son of a bitch. You try my patience, Sesshoumaru."

"And _you_ forget your place, woman," he coolly informed her, his golden eyes hardening. Evidently he had decided to reclaim control of the situation. With a gentle shove he sent Rin in Kagome's direction and looked to her sternly. Time slowed. Kagome could feel the quickened pulse in her neck acutely.

"This Sesshoumaru thanks you for your silence, miko."

_Translation: squeal and I'll kill you. Fair enough._

Kagome nodded her understanding and ushered Rin back into the forest, ridiculously thankful to be released from what had to be the most terrible and awkward scene she'd ever been a part of. The two-headed dragon followed, seeming to understand his master's wishes, and so did the toad, uncharacteristically without protest. Kagome hazarded that he knew better than to interfere with his master's marital issues.

As they distanced themselves from the couple, Kagome heard growling coming from the clearing, a few fierce barks, and something she could only assume was the sound of a tree trunk cracking.

_After this, either one of them will be dead or there will be some frighteningly intense make-up sex… I'll just not think about that._

Kagome settled Rin on the dragon and bid her and Jaken farewell before jogging off in what she figured was probably the direction she'd come from. Not that she'd been paying attention to their flight path. Oh well, Inuyasha would be able to scent her out eventually.

-----

When she rejoined her group an hour or so later, Shippo barreled into her stomach, clutching her tightly and Sango hugged her, joyfully relieved. Placing his hand on her shoulder, Miroku quietly inquired as to her well-being and she assured them all she that was fine. _Confused, but fine. _And Inuyasha was in a fine state as well.

"What did that bastard do to you? Why did you do that! I was sure he would kill you!" Obviously he was distressed at another failure on his part to protect her, and Kagome did her best to reassure Inuyasha without breaking her understood promise to Sesshoumaru. After all, the hanyou had no sense of humor when it came to his half-brother, and would no doubt fail to appreciate the surreal hilarity of the recent episode.

"Well, let's just say that things are not always what they seem."

"What the hell kind of answer is that, wench?" Inuyasha huffed. Sango looked confused as well, but kept her counsel, and Miroku merely cocked an eyebrow, clearly expecting that this would lead to an interesting story.

_You have no idea, _Kagome wanted to say. But a promise was a promise and there were definitely aspects of her encounter with the demon lord that she preferred not to share.

So she ignored Inuyasha's continued demands for an explanation and gathered her bow and arrows, slung her backpack over one shoulder, deposited Shippo upon the other, and continued on their former path. She was still having trouble wrapping her mind around the idea of Sesshoumaru as a married man with dozens of charming but illegitimate children – but then again, for a member of the aristocracy, she supposed this was all perfectly normal. Still, she highly doubted Inuyasha or any of the others had ever thought of him as anything other than the evil older brother who coveted Tessaiga – certainly not as a husband or father with, apparently, plenty of his own problems.

Then she remembered the look on his face when he realized his wife had taken Rin for his and Kagome's child and she couldn't help but giggle.

_Well, if nothing else, next time I have to face him this day will be good for a laugh._

-Fin-

I know… I suck at thinking up Japanese names, so I ripped one. I'd thought of a character with gray eyes before I realized the similarity to the protagonist in Memoirs of a Geisha. They really have nothing in common, but it was a name and I needed one. Happy to take suggestions. And I deeply apologize for the abrupt loss of Sess's armor, but it had to go and so it goes.


	2. Laugh Till It Hurts

Disclaimer: Nope. Still don't own 'em.

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"_He deserves Paradise who makes his companions laugh." The Koran_

"Ew! Get it off! Get it OFF!"

Typically Sango's kills were quick, clean, and effortless, so Kagome could understand why the mess they'd just made was disconcerting to her. Still, seeing the slayer writhing and flailing her arms in an attempt to remove a bit of some demon's lower intestines from between her shoulder blades got the better of her. She hadn't meant to snicker. Really.

Miroku was about to come to the rescue, but anything involving him and Sango's backside was bound to come to blows, so Kagome took pity, shuddering a little herself, and swatted the gooey rope off her friend.

"_Thanks_, Kagome-_chan_." Sango ground out between clenched teeth.

Kagome had the good sense to blush and apologize. Inuyasha huffed and crossed his arms, glaring balefully at the two women.

"Keh! That was pathetic. Since when did you two get so… _female_?"

"I'm surprised at you, Inuyasha," Miroku began in an educational tone, his eyes lighting with mischief. "Any man but a blind one could see that Sango and Kagome have always been quite feminine in innumerable ways. For example, when viewed from behind…"

"Our hair! He was going to comment on our well-kept hair." Kagome broke in.

While Miroku's manner of dealing with Inuyasha's temper was, in a very private way, nothing short of hilarious to Kagome, Sango's ire was reaching the boiling point and Inuyasha had turned a charming shade of pink. Plus, they were still standing in a field of swiftly rotting demon guts that smelled like a combination of wet cat food and Buyo's litter box. Kagome was just a little bit curious as to what particular features Miroku was going to extol – _Bet he's an ass man_ – but here and now were not the time and place.

Miroku's shoulders slumped in disappointment, and Kagome shot him a quick pleading look: _Funny, but not now, please?_

"Oi! Kagome. Shard?"

_A man of few words… here comes my favorite part._

Picking her way across the field toward the pink glow of the Shikon that she was blessed/cursed with the ability to see, she steeled herself, hand over her nose and mouth.

"Mmeeeww… Iphs inf phe frain."

"What was that Kagome-sama?" Miroku inquired solicitously.

_Bet he's enjoying this. Karmic payback for ruining his moment._

"It's in the _brain_," she called back nasally, pinching her nose shut. _Why me?_

"Guess its enhancing powers aren't location-specific, because that pig demon was pretty slow on the uptake." Kagome giggled in spite of herself, caught a generous whiff of the thing's entrails, and gagged.

"Excellent observation, Sango." Miroku concurred.

_Traitors. Perhaps Sango would have preferred if I _let_ Miroku help her?_

Anxious to get the shard retrieval over with, Kagome bent down gingerly and picked the sharp, glowing object out of the demon's pulverized cranium. She noted, out of the corner of her eye, that Miroku cocked his head to follow her movement.

_Yep, ass man for sure. Not a tough call, really._

Cradling the dark violet, almost black, shard in the palm of her hand she concentrated and watched the glassy thing lighten to a translucent pink, feeling the euphoric kind of wonder that never seemed to fade after all the years. _Me. _I_ did this, all on my own._

The euphoria vanished, though, as she turned to scamper back to her friends and slipped on a slick puddle of blood. Arms windmilling, she just barely managed to salvage her footing and continued at a slower pace toward the smirking monk, giggling taijiya, and concerned looking fox-child. Inuyasha just frowned.

"Clumsy wench."

_Ungrateful prick._ "At least we have the shard now, Inu-_kun_." She allowed herself the affectionate nickname he hated as payback, mentally thanking her 15-year-old self for christening it.

"Keh!" and he turned his glower to Sango. "Speaking of clumsy, that was pretty sloppy work for you, Sango. This took us way longer than it should have."

"Oh yeah! Well maybe if you didn't charge in _every time_ without stopping to think for a second we wouldn't end up in this kind of mess!" she shot back.

"This is nothing compared to the mess you'd be in without _me!_"

"Really? I seem to recall having beat your ass at least once!"

Inuyasha was fuming and Sango was shaking with rage, so of course Miroku took this moment to sneak up and caress her rear with his gloved right palm, squeezing lightly. Ire turned to indignation instantly and Sango whipped around to backhand Miroku with all the vehemence she'd built up towards Inuyasha.

Miroku actually staggered a bit – it was a lot harder than she usually hit him – and covered his reddened and probably bruised cheek with a hand. In his eyes, though, there was a smile behind the pain.

_A noble sacrifice._

Miroku threw Kagome a wink for the success of his tactic as Sango simultaneously apologized profusely – she hadn't meant to hit _that _hard – and scolded him – "Really, pervert, is it too late to cancel our agreement?" But she didn't mean it and he knew it. Kagome just sighed her appreciation for his kamikaze tactics. Miroku was the pressure valve on their group, always there to smooth things over with a bit of surprisingly sage advice or defuse a tense situation with a bawdy joke or leering innuendo. Not for the first time she wondered what his life would have been like without the curse in his palm, the kazaana – a void of nothingness that claimed all in its path, the antithesis to all that he gave freely to others.

_He would have made some woman a very happy wife. _Will_ make someone happy._ Kagome corrected herself. _As soon as this is over they'll fulfill their promise to each other._

As soon as this is over. A phrase that Kagome found herself repeating more and more often. When Naraku is gone. As soon as the darkness has passed.

_But how long?_

Resolutely squashing the question, Kagome turned an almost-too-bright smile to Inuyasha and sniffed around the sting of coming tears in her nose.

He still looked pissed. What to do? She didn't get a chance to come up with an answer because Miroku, still feigning a daze, threw his arm around Kagome, the other slung over Sango's shoulders. _Boy he's really milking this_, she thought and resigned herself to shouldering her share of the not entirely holy burden. Sango murmured her thanks. At least between the three of them things were mended.

"Let's go, idiots."

Shippou lept up to Inuyasha's shoulder and by way of asking for leniency on their behalf, pronounced, "They _are_ just human," with all the infinite superiority that only a child could muster.

Still not appeased, Inuyasha turned his back and started walking. Kagome made a mental note to give the fox-child a stern talking-to later. As far as father figures went, Inuyasha wasn't much help – of course now of all times he chose to tolerate the kit.

Sango and Kagome followed glumly and Miroku continued to enjoy his present position between the two ladies: the best of all possible worlds he could think of. And he would take advantage of it. After a minute or two Kagome noticed his right hand creeping its way down from her shoulder toward the v-neck of her tank top. Screaming in frustration, Kagome smacked the offending hand and ducked out from under his weight.

"What now!" Inuyasha turned just in time to see the miko energy crackle from Kagome's fingertips and engulf the monk's hand like a lightening rod, pink and sizzling, for an instant.

The silence was deafening.

More stunned than pained, Miroku stared at his own palm incredulously. Sango pedaled backwards, her eyes wide and round. Kagome burst into tears.

Ironically, Inuyasha grasped the significance of what had happened first. He threw back his head and howled with laughter. A full-throated laugh that shook his whole body. Miroku's brow furrowed and he looked at the sniffling Kagome with a mixture of shock, embarrassment, and wounded pride. Sango had pressed her lips together and clapped a hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking with repressed laughter.

Shippou stared quizzically up at Miroku from the ground, having been thrown off by Inuyasha's convulsions. "Wait, I don't get it. If she purified you, then you'd have to be…"

Kagome scooped him up and smothered his snout in her hand.

"I'm sorry, Miroku. So, so sorry. Really sorry…" she babbled.

Inuyasha continued to heave with laughter, crowing in delight at Miroku's evident _im_purity and Kagome's consternation. Not that they all hadn't known he was a lecher, but…

Recovering some of her composure, Kagome hissed "Sit, boy!" and the beads around his neck glowed as he was forced to the ground in time honored fashion.

Face still buried in the dirt, Inuyasha's chuckles continued float up from the crater he'd formed.

Sango was turning purple, a muffled, high pitched squeal emanating from behind her hand.

Shippou finally freed himself from Kagome's hands and cackled for all he was worth, rolling around on the ground in childish delight.

Having realized Miroku was unharmed, Kagome's apologies trailed off and she couldn't keep a rueful smirk from twisting her lips. She looked into his eyes, entreating.

_At least we're all laughing instead of yelling at each other, huh?_

Finally shaking it off, Miroku sighed in resignation and rubbed the back of his neck wearily.

"Glad you all find this good for a laugh. I'm here to help, really."

The chuckles from the crater were now interspersed with gasps and hiccups as Inuyasha staggered to his feet, wearing a ridiculous grin and a layer or two of the road.

"Way to go, lech. You probably deserved to be zapped… nice work, Kagome."

Now _he compliments me. Figures._

"Really, Kagome, you're getting a lot better at that," Sango added.

_But I wasn't trying…_

"Your point, from priestess to monk, is well taken. My apologies, Kagome-sama."

_But…_

They had already turned to leave, Miroku casting Sango an apologetic glance as well. Shippou was bounding after Inuyasha, the two of them still grinning like idiots.

Kagome threw up her hands exasperatedly and trudged on after them.

_Why me? Why him! He'd been so good and self-sacrificing today._

Truth No. 4: Because no good deed goes unpunished.

----------

That evening Kagome considered Truth No. 5: Hot springs are nice, but in no way do they compare to a hot bath.

Granted, Kagome was warm and on her way to being clean after the day's gruesome task, but there were pebbles digging into her ass. And the sulfur aroma of this particular thermal pool was a little stronger than average. But still, taking the time to relax in the warm, slightly fizzy water was better than studying for a test, which was surely what she would have been doing instead if she were still in high school.

"Kagome-chan?" Sango still had her eyes closed, head resting on a rock at the edge of the pool.

"Hmm?" she responded lazily.

"Don't you have any tests to study for?"

_And she reads minds, too!_

"No, Sango, I'm done with that." Pause. "Unless I decide to go to college, that is."

Sango shifted a bit and sank lower into the water, humming in satisfaction.

Then, "But I thought that was why you worried about the tests."

"Yeah, but I'm just not sure…" _Not sure where I belong anymore._

She had been accepted at Tokyo University, by the skin of her teeth, and her mother had made it clear that, while she fully understood her daughter's quest to undo the damage she'd done in shattering the Shikon jewel, she wanted Kagome to consider what would come… _after_. Kagome didn't want to think about _after_. And she didn't know if she was up for four more years of school.

"Well, I'm sure you'd be good at college. Which reminds me, you really are getting better at using your sacred arrows… and apparently you're improving at hand-to-hand as well." Sango cracked an eye open and smiled slyly at the other girl.

Kagome blushed, thinking back to _another_ man she'd tried to fry – a bit more intentionally.

"They're stupid powers. Come on! Pink lightening? It's not like it even does any good without the arrows." She recalled the frustration and helplessness she'd felt in Shesshoumaru's grasp. Under Sesshoumaru's weight.

"But your power comes from your soul, right? You've always been kind and gentle. I don't think it's surprising you'd have problems really hurting anyone you cared about."

_What! Oh, she means Miroku…_

"You all right?" Sango sat up and leaned towards Kagome. "You look flushed. Maybe you've been in the heat too long."

"No, it's nothing. You're right, though. We should head back to camp." Sango cast a look of slight disbelief at Kagome, but decided to let it be. Raising herself up out of the water, she reached for a towel.

Simultaneously, there was a rustling in the bushes and what sounded suspiciously like a gasp of delight.

"Damn hentai monk! You'd think he'd had enough for today."

"I don't think he'll ever tire of your… attentions, Sango. Go on, I can gather our things up."

Nodding severely, Sango wrapped her outer kimono tightly around herself and stomped off in into the foliage. Kagome just laughed softly to herself and stepped out of the water, reached for her backpack, and began rummaging for a dry towel, all the while muttering imprecations at men and their slow learning curves.

Another scuffle from the bushes. In the opposite direction. Kagome turned toward it, hands on hips in consternation.

"Not you too, Inuyasha!"

"Not hardly," a voice purred in her ear, breath ghosting across her damp neck.

----------

This chapter is shorter than the first, I know, but that one was originally intended as a one-shot. And sorry about the cliffhanger. It was either end it there or go on for about twice as long. I've got three or four more chapters mapped out my head already. All I lack is the time to write them, so bear with me. Thanks to everyone who reviewed and faved this story.

For those that are curious, this will still be a Sess/Kag thing, but this "thing" is going to be a lot longer than I ever intended and there will be some detours for the sake of the end I have in mind. Hang in with me? Expect another update sooner than this one.


	3. Stir Crazy

Disclaimer: As usual, I own none of these characters and I get no profit out of this other than my own satisfaction.

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"_If we couldn't laugh we would all go insane." Jimmy Buffet_

Finesse. True prowess in battle was about economy: resistance and the weight of the blade, flex and release, balance and momentum, applying just the right amount of force – no more, no less. Nothing more beautiful than dispatching the maximum number of opponents with a minimum effort; there was pleasure in strength, yes, but infinitely more gratification in using it skillfully. Finesse.

Sesshoumaru focused on the tip of his index finger, perfectly parallel, his other fingers falling gracefully away, striped wrist locked straight. He concentrated on that fingertip, willing his poison to the claw – there and nowhere else. Just the pad of his finger began to glow and he felt more than saw the reservoir of poison, sickly green and glowing, build beneath his skin and then pull forth through the whorls of his fingerprint. Gravity shaped the accumulating slick into a teardrop.

He watched the droplet as it fell inevitably towards its target, where it sizzled and spread, burning through exactly one layer of parchment – no more, no less. Like watery ink on rice paper. Just more destructive.

Seeing this, the petitioner kneeling in front of the low desk prostrated himself, seemingly intent on melting into the tatami, and continued to grovel. Meanwhile, Sesshoumaru picked up the parchment between thumb and middle finger – a petition for protection in exchange for a yearly tithe of lunar-moth silks and two tons of rice if he remembered correctly – and gazed thoughtfully through the hole he'd made. He didn't particularly care about rice. But the silk made from lunar moth cocoons was rumored to be incredibly durable and Rin was both tough on her clothing and growing out of her current kimonos.

Seated next to Sesshoumaru his wife stirred and glared subtly out the corner of her eye, hardly turning her head, but managing to convey her disapproval of his behavior all the same. Could she read his thoughts? The past few weeks with both Sayuri and Rin under the same roof had been… awkward. Sesshoumaru did not like unnecessary tension. Jaken had born the brunt of his discontent.

He found himself tapping a finger on the desk and thus poking holes in the contracts. The repetitive action was soothing, though. Sayuri cleared her throat elegantly. He glanced up and she shook her head almost imperceptibly. The tiny silver flowers at the end of her hair ornaments swayed with the motion; Sesshoumaru speculated that he would never grasp the significance of female grooming habits. The ornaments looked like chopsticks. Why would one wear chopsticks in their hair? Admittedly, Sayuri's hair dressing was more subdued than that of other demonesses (and human women for that matter) – typically the height and ridiculousness of such confections was inversely proportionate to the female's social standing. But for all her relative simplicity she was still incomprehensible.

Speaking of Sayuri, she was still glaring at him. She shifted her pale grey eyes toward the cowering figure on the floor, then back to Sesshoumaru, and raised her eyebrows. _Are you going to do something with him?_

Oh, right. The petitioner. Rice. Silk. Rin. Sesshoumaru had decided little more than five minutes in to grant the petition, but somewhere along the way had lost interest and then lost his train of thought. This was happening far too often of late. Occasionally politics could demand great strength of will and cunning, could be almost as interesting as bloodshed, but this was just banal. Sayuri had been entirely correct in her assessment of his affairs of state. The trivial had piled up and was now one boring but critical mass.

Although he knew it was irrational, Sesshoumaru's skin itched inside the perfection of his kimono.

He waved dismissively at the groveler, stood up, and was out of the room all in one motion, leaving him and a clearly irritated wife in his wake. He hoped the man didn't piss himself and ruin the tatatmi.

----------

Predictably, whatever he was seeking was not in the hallway, but his restlessness drove him forward, no particular destination in mind. There were a distressing number of people in the corridors, servants and lackeys, doing their best to appear busy and hard at work. He could smell their sweat and anxiety with irritating acuity. And he could hear running. Small feet running. Rin? No, she knew better, so this had to be –

Two children came barreling around the corner ahead, one after the other, with complete abandon. The boy in the lead had no time to stop and, with deplorable lack of control, slammed head-first into Sesshoumaru's knee. The girl skidded to a halt, eyes wide, mouth forming a silent 'oh' before, in a remarkable display of reflexes, she was gone back around the corner, her luminous white hair the last he saw of her.

Sniffling drew his attention back to the child at his feet. Ostensibly to remove the obstacle, Sesshoumary picked up the pup – still a babe really – by the back of his happi and held him up to eye level. Black hair, golden eyes, pointed ears, one maroon stripe on each cheek. Definitely his. The hair must be a mark of his mother who was – well, any one of the number of concubines, he supposed.

As is sometimes the case with children, for absolutely no reason the sniffling became a goofy, nearly-toothless smile. And then the child reached out to tug painfully on his father's bangs. Sesshoumaru rumbled a warning and the child giggled and repeated the action.

_What did I do to deserve this?_

One possibility did spring to mind.

_Besides that._

Sesshoumaru failed to notice Sayuri's stealthy approach over the din of the servants doing their best to be 'quiet' in the hallway and the cacophony of scents. He was honestly surprised at the sound of his name. Forgetting the child in his hand he whirled around and snarled at his wife.

"Dammit woman, do not slink up behind me like that. It is… undignified."

Recognizing Sesshoumaru's reaction for what it was – embarrassment – Sayuri inclined her head in silent assent.

"I see you have met Koji."

Sesshoumaru stared blankly. "Who?"

"Your son. The one you are holding."

"Hn." A 'blessing' indeed.

He set down the child, who scampered off in the direction his sister had fled. Or half-sister. Sesshoumaru decided that there were too many people by far in his castle. If he was to be lost in thought or restless, he should be gliding noiselessly through silent, tapestry ensconced hallways. Or stepping on Jaken. That was it. Just the castle, himself, and Jaken. And perhaps a to-be-determined female to entertain him. But that was it.

His wife cleared her throat.

"What?"

She cocked an eyebrow, questioning. He still said nothing.

"There is one other pressing matter, my lord."

"Hn."

"Perhaps it is time you thought about securing an heir for yourself. This being an objective you would have to take up with me while you are _at home_."

_Perhaps I should kill her._

"There are a number of children around, but none of them are fit to inherit your kingdom. You are young, yes, but you will be 1,000 before you know it. And I do not grow younger by the day either. And last time I checked you could not spontaneously reproduce."

The truly aggravating thing was that she was not nagging, whining, whimpering, or yelling. Her voice was pitched softly and as smoothly modulated as ever. So cool, so reasonable. He could find no reason not to consider her entirely reasonable suggestion. So much reason – he flexed his claws.

Sesshoumaru had to wonder if the sudden importance of this topic had anything to do with her suppositions about the miko. Sayuri had never seemed concerned about consummating their union on a regular basis before, and now she proposed bearing a child? He had to fight the sudden urge either to flee the premises or methodically dismantle his own residence.

_I could leave forever._

He mulled the thought over for a moment. His "extended constitutional," conveniently concurrent with the mission to recover his father's fang, had been one way to ease the tedium and escape his maddeningly calm wife. At least for a while. But now the escape itself had become routine.

Torment Inuyasha, wander, kill something, wander, trod on Jaken, rescue Rin, wander, and so on ad nauseum. Aside from one disastrous week – when he'd lost his arm and found Rin – life had reassumed its tedium.

Since he did not care to answer Sayuri, he turned and left her in silence, heading for the gardens. One part of the routine, the part involving Jaken's head and his boot, was still sounding pretty good.

Sayuri merely sighed and bowed as was appropriate and reasonable.

Of course Jaken was not in the gardens. But Rin was there, braiding flowers into one of his sons' long silver hair and humming happily. Again, just like his journey, she had taken something of his and made it her own. In all their wanderings she managed to make herself a home, and now she had done so here as well. His son, about the same age as Rin, looked up sheepishly and then hunched his shoulders and lowered his eyes humbly.

"Rin."

"Yes Lord Sesshoumaru?"

"Stay here."

"Yes my lord."

Of course Sesshoumaru did not stand there and gaze at Rin a little longer. No he did not.

Eventually he searched out Jaken, and with stern instructions to see to Rin's care and safety, lobbed him in the direction of the gardens.

----------

An hour later and a few hundred miles away from his ancestral home, Sesshoumaru still had no particular destination in mind. Glancing down at the treetops flashing beneath his feet, he realized that the release he had felt – from running, flying, the wind parting before him and closing behind him, and the youki singing in his body – was beginning to fade and the boredom had set in again. Casually, he let himself drop over a cliff, and between the precipice and the ground below, in the midst of the fall, the miko came to mind unbidden.

Sesshoumaru almost botched his landing. Almost.

Why the flash of his half-brother's human woman as he leapt? Strange, for she had been present at his only uncontrolled fall, from the great body of his father, as his life's blood seeped from the stump of his arm.

_Damn Inuyasha._

Sesshoumaru shuddered mentally at the feeling of helplessness. He was always in control. Always.

Except for the last time he saw the miko, when he could not stop the inevitable convergence of his wife, his ward, and the woman. A growl of frustration rumbled in his chest. _She_ had been the cause of months of tedium and frustration. Of being trapped in his own household.

It occurred to him that if Sayuri was going to assume that he had rutted with the human female, he might was well get _some_ enjoyment out of her. Even if it was just a little bloodshed.

Opening his senses, Sesshoumaru turned towards his half-brother's usual terrain. The rag-tag ensemble should not be difficult to find – they had a way of going in circles.

----------

"Koji" is the given name of the voice actor for Miroku. Apparently it means "blessing of God" but I learned that from the back of a sake bottle, so take it with a grain of rice, I guess.


	4. Funny Like That

Disclaimer: Like I said. I didn't think these characters up. I just play with them. Like little puppets. Dance, puppets, dance.

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"_A pithy quote."_

His arm was a vise across her chest and a few strands of his hair, cold and silky, fell over her shoulder. Kagome felt as if she was burning alive. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, arms pinned and heart in throat. Even without the instantly recognizable crest on his sleeve, the stripes on his wrist, she knew who this was.

"_Not hardly."_

Only Sesshoumaru could enunciate so clearly, so finally, her death and doom in two words.

She shivered, naked before the inevitable, literally as well as figuratively. And then it dawned on her. She was going to be a naked corpse. Inuyasha would faint. Miroku would… she didn't want to think about what Miroku would do.

_On second thought, could you melt me into goo instead of suffocating me?_

Sesshoumaru hissed in her ear and shifted his grip to her throat. "Do not mock me, human."

_Oh shit. I said that out loud. Inner monologue, Kagome. _Inner_ monologue!_

She gave a hysterical cackle. "Sorry."

He gave her a fierce, short shake in return. Kagome could not help herself, though. In the face of certain, naked death, she could only laugh; terror and embarrassment blended into one completely unhinged reaction. Her shoulders trembled as she tried her best to hold it in.

After a few minutes of this, when she was still alive, Kagome had to wonder if maybe Sesshoumaru was, in fact, not here to kill her. But if not that, then why? She thought back to the last time she'd seen him…

"_This Sesshoumaru thanks you for your silence, miko."_

"So, umm, I haven't said anything to the others."

Silence.

Truth No. 6: When all else fails, be polite. Some inane voice inside her head offered up small-talk.

"So, uh, how's your wife?"

Sesshoumaru snarled involuntarily and flexed his claws, pricking the skin on her neck. A tiny amount of poison slipped forth and mingled with the tiny droplets of Kagome's blood. Almost faster than her senses could register pain her aura flared to life and purified the poison with a spark and a puff of steam.

Surprised by the activation of her own powers, pure panic allowed Kagome to bolt out of his grasp, only to find him staring at his own hand rather than rushing in to kill her for yet another assault – albeit unintentional – on his person.

Adrenaline pumping, she could not understand why he had not maintained his hold, but screw it, she'd had enough! She was tired of being played with like some mouse caught between a cat and a corner.

_Bad analogy. Wait… I'm still mad._

"That's it! I've had enough of you with the claws and the neck and the squeezing. If you're going to torment me, you could at least bother to change it up a bit. Or wait… better yet! Leave me alone! What could the mighty _Lord_ Sesshoumaru, possibly want from a little, filthy, _human, **woman**_ anyway!"

Considering that she, by all rights, should be dead or in considerable pain at this point, Kagome paused long enough to realize that Sesshoumaru was still just standing there, examining his claws.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!"

Sesshoumaru didn't so much as bat an eyelash in response. His mind was otherwise occupied with two things he failed to understand:

1. He had not intended to release his poison and therefore his self-control must have failed. Which was not possible.

2. Other than the small punctures on her neck from his claws, the woman was unharmed.

Half of her trachea should have dissolved by now but, given her screeching, most definitely had not. Instead, she was standing there, feet planted wide apart, hands on hips, wet, dark hair in tangles, flushed and practically growling. And apparently too upset to realize she was still naked.

An image of him pinning her to the ground, grinding against her, burying himself in her submission flashed across Sesshoumaru's mind.

However, before he could decide whether or not to act on his vision, Inuyasha came crashing into the clearing, yelling for his wench.

_Why did I not hear the imbecile coming?_

"Get the hell away from Kagome you bastard!"

"Perhaps you should not leave your belongings unguarded, half-breed." And with that Sesshoumaru vanished.

"Belongings! I am not _property_! Get back here and say that to my face!" Kagome hollered after him. Then she noticed that Inuyasha was frozen, Tetsusaiga in hand, staring at her. And his cheeks were pink.

And then she realized something else. She'd been berating Sesshoumaru in the nude.

"Sit, boy!"

Her embarrassment translated to an especially shrill command and the rosary glowed unusually bright. More than just face down in the dirt, Inuyasha was out cold.

Shivering and fairly well air-dried, Kagome dressed swiftly, gathered her belongings, and booked it back to the campsite. If she was lucky, Inuyasha would wake up with amnesia.

-------------

Sango and Miroku had obviously just settled their differences by the time Kagome arrived. He was rubbing the back of his head and she had seated herself on the opposite side of the fire.

"Kagome, perhaps you can tell me what just happened? I was sitting here, minding Shippou, when this crazy woman stormed into our campsite and hit me for no reason…"

"Why you lying, lecherous, scheming…" and Sango's tirade continued in its usual fashion.

_And normally she'd be right, but for once he's telling the truth_,Kagome though, sneaking Miroku a sympathetic look. Before she could explain, however, Inuyasha caught up with her, swearing in manner that would make a prostitute blush.

"What in the seven hells did you do to make that bastard come looking for you? I want to know what happened the last time you saw him. Now!"

_Of all the times for Inuyasha to be more perceptive than he looks…_

The others' worried questions gave Kagome some room to heave an exhausted sigh before thinking up a suitable explanation that would still keep Sesshoumaru's private life private so she could keep hers, period.

"He was, uh… curious?"

There was, for once, complete and total silence in their group.

"Keh. That bastard wouldn't know curiousity if it bit him in the ass."

_Actually, Inuyasha technically speaking you're the bastard… Oh god, I must _never_ say that out loud._

"What was he curious about Lady Kagome?" Miroku asked her in that quiet, gentle voice that never failed to secure one's trust.

"Well, umm," _when he had me pinned to a tree_ "I zapped him" _and it seems it turned him on_ "so he attacked me" _and I'm not sure but I think it kinda turned me on_ "and I had problems fighting back, and then"_ his wife showed up and then_ "Rin and Jaken showed up. I'm not sure, but I think he didn't want her to see him doing violence, because he let me go" _with Rin and Jaken._ "I guess he came back to figure out how I did that to him and to finish the job." _There, that was pretty close to the truth. For a given definition of 'close.'_

Except that Miroku was looking at her in a particularly intense manner and Sango's brow was furrowed and she seemed to be puzzling something out.

And Inuyasha was not so much looking at her as looking past her. Following his line of sight she could make out the smoky glow of Kikyou's soul stealers through the trees. Turning back to Inuyasha, she smiled ruefully, feeling her face go numb and a ringing in her ears. The walls went up in her mind and she heard herself reassuring him.

"It's ok, Inuyasha. Go. We'll be fine."

He shook his head, back from the distance long enough to glare at her. "We're not through discussing this. I just have to make sure there's nothing else wrong. I'll be back in no time."

"Of course." _Sure you will._

And he was gone.

The history between Inuyasha and Kikyou was a force that could not be denied. It kept them endlessly orbiting each other but never on the same path. And for all that she and Inuyasha walked together, Kagome was beginning to realize that the history between them – all 500 years of it – was what kept them apart. It was a gap that could only be bridged by an oddity, a wrinkle in the fate's tangled tapestry, that would one day be sorted out. And when it was all said and done, where, when, would she be?

With her mind miles and years away she prepared some ramen – Shippou's "ninja food" – and settled herself against the roots of a tall oak. She looked up into the branches above, where Inuyasha wasn't sitting, pretending not to be watching her, and then at Miroku, quietly sitting _seiza_ and pretending not to watch Sango.

"_Neither one of them are a suitable match for you."_ She knew why the words of Houjou's ancestor, Akitoki, echoed now, why they reverberated in her head and settled against her ribcage, a subtle, persistent pressure.

_I love them but they are not for me. This is not my home._

She generally tried not to dwell on the true nature of her adventures, on the chasm of time between her and her friends. She didn't even want to think about what her traipsing around in the Feudal Era was doing to the future. Souta, having seen too many episodes of _Star Trek_ had enthusiastically tried to explain the basics of time-travel, alternate timelines, and chaos theory to her once, but it might as well have been algebra. Or pre-calculus. Math in general… just not her thing. But so far, nobody in her time had been wiped out of existence. The only people in danger of that fate were her friends, her family, here. And so she stayed.

But there would always be… _after._ She was from _after._ At sixteen, the age of desperate, hopeless love, she had thought she would eventually settle down in the Feudal Era with Inuyasha and have lots of ¼ demon babies. But now she was eighteen and she knew better.

Although the particulars had yet to be worked out, Kagome was sure they would defeat Naraku, there would be a wish and the Shikon jewel would disappear. Sango woud get her brother, Kohaku back; she and Miroku would marry. Shippou and Kirara would be well taken care of. Kikyou and Inuyasha would find their fate. Maybe there wouldn't be a happy ending, but life would move forward and they would be free. Still, for all her self-assuredness about everyone else's futures, she had no idea what hers would be anymore, once the quest that held their fellowship together was completed.

_Blech. Must everything come back to Tolkien?_

That their journey suddenly seemed entirely derivative was enough to bring her out of her mental funk. Oddly enough, Miroku had yet to grope Sango this evening. Shippou was already passed out on her sleeping bag, drooling a little and the monk seemed to have dozed off while Sango was wearily polishing her Hiraikotsu. Perplexed, Kagome realized that things had been this quiet for a while now. As often as Miroku succeeded in lightening the mood, even his bright, mischievous eyes and ready laugh were not enough to keep away the exhaustion that trailed behind them, ready to pounce the minute they set down their burden.

The search for the shards was taking its toll. As Sango had so delicately put it last week, "lugging this big-ass boomerang all over goddamn Japan" was getting to her. Having stayed with them all summer, Kagome now knew how truly tiring this quest was. All through high school she had gotten to go home every other week or so, take a hot bath, and sleep in a bed. For years. And for years all the rest of her friends had had no such luxury. This was a full time job for them. And it meant the world that they do it as quickly as possible. Before Kohaku was completely destroyed by Naraku. Before Miroku vanished into his own palm. Before Inuyasha's own blood betrayed him.

Suddenly her eyes stung, and her chest hurt. They were all fighting for their future and Kagome had abandoned hers. Somewhere in the midst of the well she had lost her way. Eventually she slept, but there was no escape and there were no dreams.

----------

The next morning Inuyasha had still not returned.

Kagome was angry, but not as angry as Sango, who was furious that Miroku had managed to invade her personal space even in his sleep. She had awoken to the monk cradling her from behind with his accursed right hand latched onto her chest. Sango's screaming made a pretty good alarm clock.

_All hope is not lost_, Kagome reflected, rolling over and smiling so no one could see.

"I suppose I should be thankful, my dearest Sango, that you are not endowed with the same powers as Kagome." Miroku was an expert at finding silver linings.

And suddenly Kagome was back underneath Sesshoumaru struggling to summon the strength to push him away – mentally and physically. Blushing hard she quickly gathered her things and informed her friends that she was going home.

"Summer's almost over and I should at least check in. Besides, Inuyasha may be gone for a while and we could all use a break, ne?"

Sango looked dumbfounded. "You're not waiting to see when he comes back?"

"Nope."

Miroku scratched his head thoughtfully. "Perhaps our lovely Kagome has someone in particular she wishes to visit."

Her blush was back and the look on Miroku's face was pure triumph.

"No! There's no one. I just haven't seen my family in a while. And I have…" _hmm I'd almost be thankful if there was a test to take. At least then I'd have a better excuse than I'm tired and I'm running away from Sesshoumaru because he is scary and sexy at the same time I don't want to think about what that says about me…_ "laundry to do."

Miroku didn't look convinced, but Sango readily agreed to lend her Kirara and after promising Shippou a pound of pocky upon her return, she let the fire-cat take her back to the well. It was better this way, safer, really.

As she vaulted over the rim of the well, she looked up and watched the deep blue of the late summer sky disappear, only to be replaced with the boards of the well house roof. She had never been so glad to see that wooden ceiling.

Sure, she was running away. She knew it too.

She had no idea what day of the week it was, but since no one seemed to be home and it was the middle of the morning, it was safe to assume a weekday. Leaving her pack by the door, so that her mother would know she was home, Kagome made straight for the kitchen – or more specifically, the coffee maker. She loved tea, but coffee was definitely not an option in the Feudal Era, so it was always one of her first craves when she returned home.

Standing on one foot in the kitchen, her right foot braced on her left knee, toe tapping her shin, she watched the percolater work and perused the newspaper, taking in the headlines. Sighing, she leaned her hip into the counter and took comfort in the neat, clean surroundings and the spicy, satisfying smell of fresh coffee brewing. Satisfied that China hadn't fallen into the ocean while she was away, she put the newspaper back on the kitchen table. Right next to the manila envelope from Tokyo University, addressed to her. Her registration papers.

After opening it and reading the cover letter, she stood for a while longer, running her fingers over the university seal on the letterhead. She thought about what college might be like. Thought about her friends in the Feudal Era, how they all worked so hard for a future that, when it came down to it, they didn't know they would be around to see. Kagome knew. She knew they would win because her world was here. But she didn't know yet where she would go from here. But she knew that she, her family, and her friends deserved the best from her.

So she poured herself a mug of coffee, adding some cream and artificial sweetener (none of that in the 1500s either), and sat down at the table to fill out the forms. It was one way she could honor her friends, to make herself a future.

----------

But the past came back to claim her the next morning, in the form of a very aggravated hanyou. Kagome's mother turned him away though and he subsided. For some reason he had always instinctively respected Mrs. Higurashi and obeyed her. Kagome did return for a few days, though, long enough to explain to her fellow shard hunters what she would be doing. Sango beamed and congratulated her on her decision. Kagome knew she could count on the older girl for her support. Inuyasha fumed. Miroku gave his silent support as well, but there was that look in his eye that said he was slightly suspicious and was only biding his time to satisfy his curiousity. Inuyasha had dropped the inquisition about Sesshoumaru – encounters with his ex-whatever-she-was had a way of doing that – but Miroku was too smart, too perceptive for comfort sometimes and definitely as tenacious as Inuyasha.

The next Monday, Kagome went to college. The day was a blur and by the time she reached her last class that afternoon, she was exhausted and thankful that she had enrolled in at least one "fun" class – music appreciation. Since it was a cross-listed elective there were a variety of students, of all ages, in the lecture hall. Kagome chose a seat about halfway up the hall on the left side, where the doors were. She noticed there was a door in back as well. _Good to know, escape routes are good. If the professor turns out to be Naraku reincarnated I can book it out of here._

She was early, so she flipped open her notebook and doodled while listening to some of the older students. Apparently the TA for this class was supposed to be good looking. And of questionable moral standing. Some of the girls were planning on using this to the advantage of their GPAs. Kagome sniffed. She knew how to deal with lechers.

Exactly two minutes before class, Professor Morikawa walked in and introduced himself. Kagome was relieved. He seemed like a nice, fatherly man, about forty five or so, with a partially graying beard and short gray hair, and he stood with his hands in his pockets while addressing the class.

A few minutes later Kagome heard the door at the back of the hall open and shut. All the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She shivered. Must be a draft. Professor Morikawa looked up and smiled, finishing his explanation of the course syllabus. The late somebody walked down the stairs to the front of the hall, passing Kagome on her left as she studiously highlighted a few important items on the syllabus.

"And now I would like to introduce your TA for this class, who will be helping me with the grading and answering any questions you all might have throughout the semester. This is Gene Tsuzitani."

Kagome looked up and promptly forgot how to breathe. The man was gorgeous, standing there in trim jeans and a navy dress shirt, unbuttoned enough to show the white undershirt beneath. He had dark hair, just long enough for a ponytail and a few stray bangs trailed across his face messily. His ears were pierced, gold hoops. Three on the left, two on the right.

Kagome gasped. _No. Can't be._

The young man looked straight at her. His eyes, behind a pair of silver wire-rim glasses, were deep blue, almost violet. He somehow managed to look puzzled and predatory all at once. _Can't. Be._

"Gene here is an ethnomusicologist and a doctoral fellow from the United States. He is doing some fascinating work on hip-hop communities here in Japan."

The young man grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. With his right hand.

"Professor Morikawa-san is exaggerating," he assured the class. The girls tittered. Kagome hadn't believed in reincarnation until that moment. She knew that voice, knew the eyes, knew the body and the gestures. It was him alright. Somehow it was him. And he was…

Gene finally lowered his hand from his neck and Kagome saw it. The trendy bracelet of little blue prayer beads around his right wrist.

_Still as tasteless as ever…_

----------

"_She was eighteen and she knew better."_ Please, please, read that as irony. And please review. If you enjoyed it, please say so. If you hated it, tell me why. )


	5. Pick Up Line

Disclaimer: Do _you_ think I make any money off of this? If "no," you are absolutely correct, if "yes," have you read my writing!

Warning: NOT for under 18. Limeade.

-----------

It all started with a question.

As part of the "Music and Ritual" unit of the course, they were learning the order of the Catholic Mass and Offices and the kinds of chant associated with them, which Professor Morikawa assured them was fundamental to the entirety of Western music. Kagome just thought it was torture. As Morikawa-san had suggested, with a sly twinkle in his blue-grey eyes that made him somehow appear more boyish than his TA, she'd gone to Gene for help. Apparently Medieval music was not Gene's strong suit and helping her would be "good for him."

"So which part stays the same every Sunday? The Proper or the Ordinary?"

"Well, think about it," – evasive half smile – "If the chant changes to suit the particular day – usually a feast or saint day – then it is appropriate, or…"

"Proper?"

"Good. At least, that's always the way I remember it." Wink.

Kagome jotted the catchphrase down.

"And I'm still not sure when Matins, Lauds, and Vespers happen…"

"Well, Vespers is the most musically interesting and happens around sunset. Matins is pre-dawn and Lauds is at sunrise. Monks didn't sleep a lot."

_Monks._ _So like him and yet not him._ Reincarnation didn't seem to be so literal. A fact Kagome took as a point of pride given the Kikyou issues. Point of fact, Kagome was sick of the whole idea of reincarnation, so it was immensely gratifying that Gene was _not_ Miroku. Not that they weren't incredibly similar. Example: seated side-by-side at a table in the library reference section, Gene had already managed to snake his arm around the back of Kagome's chair, ostensibly to peer at her notes.

He leaned over casually, shaggy black hair falling over his shoulder, shocking blue eyes peering over the thin silver frames of his glasses.

_Unbound hair._

"I don't know about you, but I prefer to greet the sunrise in bed."

_But still a letch._

Truth No. 7: The more things change the more they stay the same.

Kagome narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "I'm an early riser."

"That's funny, so am I." Slow, deliberate leer.

It was just too much. Suddenly Kagome was fifteen again, being swept of her feet and carried away – just not literally this time. She began giggling uncontrollably, blissfully aware that this was the first time in months that she didn't have to smother her laughter. It was liberating. And completely inappropriate behavior for a library. The other patrons were beginning to cast either withering glares or puzzled glances their direction. Gene looked a little distressed and utterly confused.

"In case you haven't read the script, now is when you're supposed to hit me…"

Kagome's laughter doubled, to the point that she wasn't even making noise anymore, just convulsing and gasping for air. After another minute or two of this she finally composed herself, wiping a few tears from her eyes.

"I'm sorry, it's just that you're so… and I haven't… I haven't been able to laugh like that in a long time." Other than the occasional wink and nod between her and Miroku, there was no one in the past to share her laughter with lately. The summer had faded into fall and things were too serious, too dire – one couldn't laugh at dirty jokes with the fate of the world on their shoulders. So Kagome tucked her laughter away and forced herself not to smile too much, exchanging giggles at Miroku's antics and Inuyasha's density, for rueful sighs.

"Well then it's me who's truly sorry for you. If there's ever anything I can do to help…" he lightly placed his hand on her knee, leaning in for the kill. It was familiar and yet new. It had been a long time since she'd been on the receiving end of Miroku's advances – mostly due to Inuyasha and his tendency to hoard Kagome. Not that he knew what to do with her.

It was pretty clear _Gene_ knew what to do, though. Had he placed his hand a millimeter higher it would have been offensive and not just forward. If he didn't look so absolutely sincere… he _was _sincere, with clear and steady eyes… she would never have leaned in too. She would have gotten up, walked out of the library and never known this feeling, so light and so full, as if his soft and sure lips had undone some knot inside her. All that she had held inside, put aside, for years welled up in her chest till it ached, went beyond ache, and released. She kissed him back.

----------

As earth-shattering as their first kiss was, Kagome's first sexual experience was awkward.

She'd had no idea what blessed thing Gene was doing with his mouth _down there_ but she was mortified and aroused at the same time.

Then the tangling of limbs before Gene finally settled against her.

And the _pain_. She had cried out, certain that ecstasy should not hurt so much, that there had to be something wrong with her. Gene stilled, worried, but then, as surely as she had thought she was dying, she knew that she needed it done, now! She'd all but screamed at him – in fact, she probably had screamed, quite loudly – to "Oh God, just push!"

Eyes shut tightly, tears seeping out, she endured beneath his steady and gentle movements until the searing became an ache, and then he rolled his hips and,_ oh_…

She never reached that delicious breaking point that he had taught her with his lips and hands – this climax was more vague – but she had an idea what awaited them the next time. And over the following months Gene proved to be an excellent tutor.

At the moment, though, as they dozed in each other's arms, Kagome came to two conclusions.

1. Gene's apartment screamed "bachelor!" but not in a scary way.

The dimmer switch in the bedroom should have been her first clue that she was in over her head. The luxurious, queen size bed, however, she was thankful for. His bedroom, like the apartment in general, was fairly spartan, but in good taste. They were currently entangled in soft, obviously high thread-count, sheets in varying neutral shades with a caramel-colored duvet. A few kitschy, but clearly sentimental objects decorated two low book shelves: a miniature katana letter-opener, an incense burner in the shape of a lotus flower, a purple porcelain dragon. She couldn't see the titles in the cases from here, but she assumed the two books lying out on his bedside table next to the vintage-looking alarm clock (a good ten minutes off) were representative: a finely illustrated copy of the _Kama Sutra_ and _Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance_. The small lamp was marble-colored and shaped as a cariad (of course he would have a naked woman at his bedside) and she didn't even want to know (yet) what else was in the drawer he'd pulled the condom out of. Beyond that there was only a small chest of drawers and a worn, brown leather chair, across which he'd casually tossed his jacket, followed by her clothes.

2. She had no desire to know if any of her other friends had been reincarnated.

For starters, she had no idea what the life expectancy of a hanyou was, and wasn't too anxious to find out if Inuyasha had died or not. She wouldn't know what to do with a – what, middle-aged? – Shippo. Especially since, deep down, she knew that she and Inuyasha were in the process of giving him some fabulous Oedipal issues. What if the cycle was off and Sango was an annoying twelve year old that Kagome would nothing in common with? When it came right down to it, none of them would be the same.

Case and point: never, under any circumstance, would Kagome have ever had sex with Miroku. Or made out with him in the microfiche reading room at the library. Or the movie theatre. Or on the train back from the theatre…but Gene was another matter.

And his sleepily wandering hands told her he was awake again, even though his eyes remained closed. It was, after all, only two in the afternoon. And so, for once, Kagome put the past behind her and gave in wholeheartedly to his languorous demands.

----------

Which was not to say that Kagome was lying down on the job. By no means had she quit the Feudal Era – she was doing an excellent job of multitasking. Her schedule was arranged so that she could easily be gone for three or four days, a week if she worked extra hard. College was so much easier to juggle than high school. So she shuttled across the years, doing the best to fulfill all her obligations.

Inuyasha complained, but she was used to that, and to quiet him she gave in to his demand that she _never_, under _any_ circumstance, be alone in the Feudal Era. Her agreement also meant that there had been no more unfortunate encounters with "that" Sesshoumaru. Kagome was not strictly disappointed, so much as she kept looking over her shoulder, thinking that this all had to come crashing down some time soon. He was bound to get angry enough to come after her eventually, rabid hanyou or no. Inuyasha had never been much of a deterrent to him.

More pressing, however, was the fact that Miroku and Sango had picked up on her new relationship. Stupid friends and their stupid knowing her too well. Kagome, Yuka, Eri and Ayumi had all gone their separate ways after high school, but the monk and taijiya were doing an admirable job of filling in the meddling gap. She did her best to indulge their curiosity without giving away Gene's identity – it would just be too surreal. None of them, especially Miroku, needed to be reminded in such a way of their mortality. Sango seemed satisfied with her answers. Miroku, however, was always perceptive and took every opportunity to catch her alone and ask awkward questions. She'd given only a rough description of Gene and his personality. Maybe Miroku hadn't figured it out, but he'd have to know that only a man with his kind of determination could sway Kagome. Even Kouga, with his incredible self-assured endurance, had failed enough times. Damn the man and his intelligence.

Inuyasha never said a word. He'd sniffed her intently the first time she came back after losing her virginity. Maybe the birth control pills probably threw off her pheromones as well as her hormones? His "who cares?" demeanor barely cracked, but Kagome could tell he was upset. But they had never discussed anything important – Inuyasha was a man of action – and he went right back to guarding her just as zealously as ever. Kagome felt a strange sort of guilt, even though there was nothing "official" between the two of them. She constantly reminded herself of her promise to move forward.

-----------

Kagome had no desire to go anywhere, ever. She and Gene were lounging in the shade of an old sycamore with her cradled between his legs. Leaning back, her head pillowed on his shoulder and the top of her head against his cheek, she felt completely relaxed. Gene may not have been a Buddhist monk in this life, but he had certainly helped her find peace, if not enlightenment. She melted further into his embrace and he tucked his arms around her, the left at her waist and the other over her own right shoulder. The strong fingers of his left hand spread over the curve of her hip and she toyed with the bracelet of prayer beads at his other wrist.

"Want one of your own?" Gene chuckled softly.

"No thanks, not my style." She didn't have the heart to tell him how corny they looked. Why turquoise? Of all the colors. She'd never understood the turquoise leggings on Miroku either. Why!

"So when are you going to run off and leave me again?"

They had reached an understanding about Kagome's frequent absences early on. The essential adaptability of the man had not changed with the years; he was as accepting of her as his former self was. On both sides of the well she could count on his support. Although she had no idea where this had come from or where it was going she gladly accepted the contentment he brought her for she had never known its like since she began her double life. And he was_ hers_. For now. And he was warm and soft, yet firm and…

"Hello? Earth to Kagome."

"Sorry… what?" she mumbled drowsily.

"Oh nevermind, I was wondering if you would ever tell me where it is you go."

_Still too curious for his own good._

Maybe it was too much sun or maybe it was what this man did to her, but Kagome was suddenly playful, if in a very muzzy way.

"Hmmm," she took one of his fingers and tapped it to her lips thoughtfully, "maybe I will. But first you have to tell me a secret of _yours_."

Gene did not react in the lewd manner Kagome had expected. Instead he placed both his hands on her shoulders, squeezing lightly, and sighed.

_He really is a different person._

"I have a girlfriend."

_Okay, scratch that._

Strangely enough, Kagome's heart didn't stop, the world didn't skid to a halt, and tears didn't sting her eyes. She did feel slightly nauseous, but that could be the heat. It was almost euphoric, like she was watching two characters in a film and she had known all along what was going to happen to them.

"What's her name?"

"You really want to know? You're not gonna hit me?"

Kagome nodded.

"Yes to the not hitting, or you want to know her name?"

Reaching over her shoulder, Kagome smacked him lightly. "Her name, idiot."

"Michelle. Michelle Narita."

_Michelle. The anonymous giver of kitsch, I'm sure._

"That sounds pretty." Kagome still hadn't turned around. She found it strange to be having this conversation back to front – it was almost as if she didn't really know who she was talking to. "Do you have a picture?" She also had a nagging suspicion.

"Sure. Here, just a sec," Gene sounded puzzled, but he shifted behind her, digging in his back pocket, and produced his wallet.

_How did I never notice this?_ Michelle was beautiful – long brunette hair and brown, kind looking eyes. She appeared fiercely happy in the snapshot, dressed for hiking, her long legs tanned and toned, and she was posed next to an ancient looking redwood tree.

It was clear who Michelle was.

_He does not belong to me, in this life or any other._

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. It was so nice to not be lonely here anymore. You mean a lot to me," he rubbed the back of his neck. He paused, perhaps waiting for her to cry or scream or otherwise come unglued, and then continued when it was clear she wouldn't. "Anyway, I didn't really think I'd be able to do a long distance relationship, so Michelle and I decided to let it go and see where we are when I go back to the states. I've just not been able to settle down yet. It's a curse really."

Slowly she lifted his right hand, running her fingertips over it, turned it wrist up, and tenderly placed a kiss in the center of his palm.

"At least it's a curse you can break."

-----------

The next day, having squared away a couple weeks of class work, Kagome flung herself back across the years. Sure, she was running away. She knew it too. If Miroku noticed that she avoided looking him in the eyes for a few days, he never said anything.

Somewhere between the pick-up line and the punch-line of this joke Kagome had ceased to care about what happened to her own heart. But she soon had all the distraction she needed.

------------

AN: Okay, detour over, I promise. I just felt the need to "grow" Kagome a little. She needs to be a woman, I think, to deal with Sesshoumaru. Thanks to "Miroku" for his help with the bachelor pad. You were invaluable! glomp

The asian-themed kitsch is purposefully that cheesy. In honor of the real Gene.

And note: in my imagination Kagome can have sex with whomever she wants to have sex with. That's my take and I'm sticking to it. I happen to like Miroku a lot. I think he's one of the deeper characters in the series, if you could call any of them "deep" – I dare you to be that compassionate with a stopwatch on your life. And I know a few guys who are like him – not just in that they are big flirts and like women a bit too much – but in the quiet way that they are really good guys and care a lot about their friends. Anyway, I always imagine her eventually growing out of Inuyasha in a few years- never completely, but at least to the point that she wouldn't feel like she was "cheating" on him if she developed a romance "back home."


	6. Butt of the Joke

Warning: Manga spoilers, ch. 472-3. Sort of. It'll probably fly right by if you haven't read it, but just in case.

----------

"_Nothing shows a man's character more than what he laughs at." – Johann Wolfgang von Goethe_

As she struggled to breath against the iron grip around her throat – _Again!_ – Kagome reflected that now, at least, she knew _exactly_ what Sesshoumaru's problem was. Not that knowing could cycle back the hands on her watch and prevent her from ending up in this position, for what felt like the millionth time, but at least it lent an oddly comforting irony to her situation, a certain cosmic and comedic heft.

_It's almost like the universe has decided I _belong _with his hand around my throat._

And things had been going so well… or something approaching well.

----------

Truth No. 8: When we are angry, we cry. When we are scared, we laugh.

As the time when they would defeat Naraku, or die in the attempt, drew closer, the funnier things seemed, and the more sad.

Maybe the tears could be tears of blood now. Maybe the laughter had a slightly hysterical edge. But there was comfort in the feeling of falling forward again. It was familiar, as invigorating as it was terrifying, and it gave them all a reckless, nervous energy they had not felt since they first banded together, one by one. The long lull of wandering, searching, and learning seemed to be almost at an end.

While Kagome could not shake the sense of foreboding, she was glad of the freedom to laugh with her friends again. 'Whistling past the graveyard,' her grandfather called it.

Come to think of it, she'd tried to teach Inuyasha how to whistle once. It had been a slobbery experience.

She wondered if Sesshoumaru could whistle. Perhaps she would ask him. Or maybe not – one never knew if his reaction would be disinterest or decapitation. He could be tricky that way.

Kagome would never be sure exactly why he'd ceased his attempts on her life, but she was fairly certain it had something to do with his ward. One day, he had simply shown up, backhanded Inuyasha, glared meaningfully at her, and left Rin in her care for a week or so. Kagome thanked the powers-that-be that the arrogant lord had chosen to do so during her fall break. She'd hate to think how leaving the girl alone with Sango, outnumbered by imbecilic men and a pushy, possessive fox-boy would have turned out. Especially since she'd gathered from Sesshoumaru's wordless command that Rin's well-being was her responsibility for the time being.

Strangely, or perhaps not so, Inuyasha reacted more childishly to the imposition than Shippou, who gleefully proceeded to astound Rin with his fox-magic and collection of toys and treasures. Kagome finally came to the conclusion that, where she was concerned, Inuyasha was incapable of anything other than possessive, defensive, and strikingly adolescent behavior - a situation he gave her no reason to believe would ever change. He was determined, implacable, and that made him strong, especially when he needed to protect her, but the mold of their relationship was set. It could never be changed in any fundamental way. And that was alright. It just made him a little annoying sometimes.

At any rate, Rin's stay had been a pleasant one for everyone but Inuyasha, if a bit confusing. After Sesshoumaru collected her, safe and sound, it seemed that Kagome, and perhaps the others as well, had passed some sort of test they were unaware of having taken. Periodically, the vague demon lord would appear to speak a sentence or two to Kagome, perhaps pass on some crucial piece of intelligence, and occasionally hand off a jewel shard that had come into his possession. At least his astounding, and no doubt justified, self-assuredness guaranteed his disinterest in such trifles. Kagome, for one, wished that he were not so intent on speaking to her alone because it pretty much meant he spoke to her at bath-time.

She also couldn't shake the notion that, although he said little, he was always mocking her behind his eyes. Nor could she entirely discount her feeling that she was only temporarily safe in his presence. Their brief conversations usually left her in a shaking rage, for his casual arrogance never failed to rile her, and she began to wonder if he was deliberately provoking her in an aloof way just to watch her struggle between her emotions and her sense of self-preservation, all the while trying to preserve her modesty. Surely, if he found anything amusing it was making others aware of their own inadequacies.

_That ass._

"Are you listening Lady Kagome?" Miroku sounded like a concerned tutor.

Kagome blushed in spite of herself.

_Damn, thought I'd manage to suppress that particular memory…_

Miroku had started telling a joke before her mind wandered off. Something about a man hearing the most beautiful sound in the world while wandering through a forest…

"So he followed the sound?" Kagome assumed. That did tend to be what men wandering the Feudal Era did, as far as she'd observed… in fact, they had a distressing habit of going to investigate every little thing, which hardly ever went well, and…

"Of course, Lady Kagome. And so it was that he came upon a monastery inhabited by several virtuous old monks."

Sango scoffed.

"Who informed the man," Miroku continued without missing a beat, "that, yes, they knew what the sound was, but, no, they could not tell him."

"Why?" Shippou asked brightly around the candy in his mouth.

"Excellent question." The tutorial voice again. Kagome blushed quietly.

"And…" Sango growled.

"The monks explained that they could not tell the man what the heavenly sound was because he was not a monk..."

Ten minutes later Miroku was still talking as they stopped to make camp, an endless narration of the man's trials and tribulations. Sango looked intent and not a little exasperated, Inuyasha had wandered off to hunt (a thinly veiled excuse to escape), and Kagome was beginning to have an awful premonition about this story. Shippou fidgeted in her lap.

"And finally, after more than a year of spiritual searching, perseverance, and moderation in all things…"

Sango lifted an eyebrow as if to say "_What would you know about it?_"

But Miroku continued unfazed, "Finally, the head monk deigned to tell him what the heavenly sound was!"

With this, the monk in front of them folded his hands into his sleeves and smiled in a self-satisfied way. Then he stared meditatively into the forest behind them.

"And?" Sango had that gleam in her eye that she often got right before decapitating something.

"I can't tell you. You're not a monk." His gaze was still fixed to the distance.

First, Sango furrowed her brow in confusion, frustration brewing. Her thought process was almost a visible thing. _There has to be something else coming. A dirty joke? A grope? A terrible pun?_

And then it dawned on her. Kagome could see the point of revelation as her confusion shifted to a scowl. There was _nothing_ coming. That was _it_.

Immediately, though, her expression cooled and she cocked an eyebrow again. "You think you're funny, monk?"

Finally dropping the bodhisattva act, Miroku stared her down lazily. "Well, if I do say so myself…"

"Monk." She interrupted.

"Yes, Sango dear?"

"I will give you a five second head start."

"Whatever for?"

"One."

And he was gone in a flurry of purple robes, the jingling sound of the rings on his staff the only evidence left of his presence.

Sango looked resignedly at Kagome for precisely four more seconds before leisurely getting to her feet and shouldering Hiraikotsu.

"Happy hunting, Sango." Kagome winked.

Flashing the tiniest smirk, the demon slayer strolled after her prey.

"I think it's even scarier when she moves slow," was Shippou's sage observation. Kirara yawned and curled up to take a nap, apparently confident her mistress could handle things with the holy pervert by herself.

Shaking her head, Kagome giggled a little, snuggling the wise-beyond-his-years fox-child to her chest. The girls had had enough frank bath-time conversations for Kagome to know that Sango most likely had a more interesting "punishment" in mind for Miroku than just walloping him with the blunt edge of her boomerang. So long as they stayed out of earshot Kagome didn't mind overmuch.

Certainly they were never as loud as… yes, nothing like disturbing, resonant noises that Sesshoumaru and his wife had produced while she escorted Rin from their confrontation. She felt her cheeks heat with an unwelcome blush at the thought. Why? It wasn't as if anything like that had ever happened between herself and… No, those sounds had been softer, more rumbly, kind of like purring, and…

"Tell me why you find the monk's tale so amusing."

"Crap!"

"Surely that is not why."

"Well, actually, it _is_ crap, but that's not why it's funny, it's just that…" Kagome continued to ramble while recovering from Sesshoumaru's sudden appearance and fighting off her blush, which was difficult when the person that you had certainly _not_ just been fantasizing about popped in for a visit. _Was I really fantasizing? Surely that's not what it was. _Except that she usually only blushed like that when remembering one of Gene's tricks.And the words just kept falling out of her mouth, while she slowly realized that Shippou had vanished, and belatedly it occurred to her that Inuyasha could return any minute and she didn't really fancy either having to sit him or to clean raunchy green acid burns off his hide, nor was she entirely sure that Sesshoumaru wouldn't tire of the aggravation and just kill them all, no matter how nice a babysitter she was… "actually, it's funny because it's not funny – "

"You begin to bore me."

Kagome had a vivid vision of what he probably did to people he found boring. It was bloody. And painful. And involved lots of intestines, spleens, and other less than savory, but necessary, body parts. She gagged a little. Best to get to the point, perhaps. She swallowed hard.

"It's called a shaggy dog joke."

He raised an eyebrow in what Kagome had come to understand was a request for explanation. Or as close as he ever came to _asking_ for anything.

"It's called that because… well, actually I'm not sure why. I think it's an American thing… but anyway, I bet you'd always get them, 'cause, you know… dog… and hair, long hair, and…"

And she never got to finish the sentence.

"I am _not_ shaggy, miko. I am _always_ well groomed."

_And apparently sensitive about his image_.

So here she was again, running out of profanity and air. Perhaps the slight euphoria due to oxygen depravation was what caused her sudden revelation.

Sesshoumaru could not laugh at himself.

----------

Author's Note: Sorry for the long hiatus. Research. Work. Life.

I'm taking rather a large jump forward, so don't be too disturbed. I'm going straight through a few "Kagome" chapters. Never fear, we'll backtrack for some Sess POV soon. I forsee two more chapters. But, then again, I never thought I'd spend almost a year writing this story. I promise to have it done by (preferably before) the first anniversary.

Also, please do not misunderstand me. I mention Kaou, but I think it was quite possibly the most awfully melodramatic thing I've ever seen in the manga- and that's saying a lot given recent events.

If any of you are interested, the soundtrack for the finishing of this chapter was… MC Solaar's _Cinquième As_ ("Fifth Age"). Some of you gals out there may recognize his "La belle et le bad boy" from the last episode of Sex and the City. French hip-hop sounds so liquid… it's almost tasty.


End file.
